The Language of Flowers
by Daisy If You Have
Summary: For a reader who wondered if I ever wrote anything fluffy. Deeply AU, no powers non-senshi, goofy in all my signature ways. Haruka is a florist whose life is happy, with her own successful shop, a little apartment, and her assistant Mina to liven it up. There's just one thing missing. Everything changes when a rich socialite comes to her looking for flowers for her wedding.


Every day was much the same for Haruka Tenno. She rolled over in bed to the harsh shrieking of her alarm, laid there for a moment as consciousness slowly came to her, fighting every urge to bury her head back under the pillow and go back to sleep. Eventually, she willed herself out of bed, and stumbled to the bathroom, standing under the hot water, the smell of the soap invigorating her. She pulled on a fresh undershirt, threw some gel in her hair, and buttoned up her oxford blue shirt, rolling up the sleeves to her elbow. Sometimes, if the day was particularly cold, she would throw a sweater over the top, but she was never outside long, and the shop was warm.

She finished her routine by running downstairs to the café next door, where every day a coffee with 4 sugars and cream sat waiting for her, a breakfast sandwich, with ham instead of bacon and extra cheese, wrapped up in wax paper for her.

In most stories, this would be where we realize that Haruka's life had taken on a certain shade of grey in this routine, every day the same, day in and day out. But Haruka had no such feelings about her life. For she had a secret weapon, unleashed every day as she unlocked the door to her shop, holding her sandwich in her mouth, every day.

It had been 3 years since the place had been made hers, but she still smiled every morning when she walked through the door and pulled on the green florist's apron, her name embroidered below the left strap. Even before she walked in, the scent of roses, lilies, and whatever item marked the seasons—Honeysuckle in spring, gardenias in summer, evergreen in winter— wafted out the door and surrounded her like a blanket. She walked in the door and turned on the lights, strolling out of the backroom to see each bright delightful bunch staring out at her. Every color choice, every sculptural line of a bouquet, all were wonderful, and all were hers.

And so she was very content.

It was a morning like this, like any other, where we join our young heroine as she muddled along in her Spanish learned on the fly, standing at her back door with the South American flower dealers as she tried to keep one eye on the front of the shop.

One of the other important traditions of her routine was her assistant's lateness.

Over the years, Haruka had managed to collected a reasonable familiarity with the language of the flowermen, particularly loving the sounds of the flowers as they rolled off their tongues, the syllables soft and flowing. Lirio. Girasol. Jacinto. He complimented her Spanish, she was sure, more to compliment her effort to meet him, than any actual skill she possessed, but she was in no position not to take a compliment.

She was packing boxes of fresh irises inside when a familiar, clear voice rang through the alleyway behind the shop. "Ey! Eddy, que paso? No te he visto desde hace mucho!"

Haruka set down the box of blooms and sighed. Among her assistant's many other irritating qualities, she had picked up a near crystal-perfect Spanish in the past three years, while Haruka still stumbled after nearly, what was it now, seven? She had worked in this shop so long, she almost forgot what it was like to be anywhere else.

She walked back out to the alleyway where her small blonde assistant was leaned against the brick of the building, sipping a coffee behind sunglasses that signaled last night's activities.

Haruka scowled. "Mina, maybe if you showed up on time, you would viste Eddy a little more mucho."

She looked over her sunglasses at Eddy and grinned. "Esa marimacho necesita que relajar, no? Son flores, no son—"

"GET." She shooed Mina inside, counting out a series of bills for Eddy and picking up the last box of gerbera daisies.

She set the box on the floor next to the others as Mina pulled the apron on, the one Haruka had proudly had made a few years ago when she bought the place, proudly embroidered with 'Butch's Flowers.' Mina had declared the shop name a sign that God was real and actively working in their lives, no matter how many times Haruka had explained that Butch had been the name of the kind old man who had owned the shop for 30 years prior, and there was no point in changing the name of a neighborhood institution, and she really respected Butch and how he had taken her in and taught her the trade and helped her get financing to buy the shop when he'd decided to retire.

None of which did anything to quell Mina's laughter.

But she was not totally useless in her teasing, Haruka reflected. She had spread the word throughout the community that Butch's Flowers was exactly what it sounded like, and Haruka had a steady stream of lady-loving bouquets going out the door.

Moments like that made it difficult to stay mad at Mina for long, no matter the temptation.

Her gift was in people. She had worked out deals with the café, the Italian restaurant down the street, even an occasional trade with Haruka's barber. Paying in trade kept things off all of their books, Mina reasoned, and she wasn't wrong. It was this unique gift that kept Mina working the front of the house, and Haruka would never go to bridal show without her. She could talk people into nearly anything.

She needed the irritating little scamp. More than she cared to admit.

Mina looked over the sheets of paper indicating the orders to fill today, on top of the stuff to have set out front. She read them to Haruka as she sipped her coffee lazily. It wasn't bad today—a few bridesmaid's bouquets needed to be finished for tomorrow, a birthday bouquet with lilies marked as a favorite, and she needed to finish the flower displays for the quince this weekend. All told, it would be a relaxing time.

What Haruka loved most about her job was not the scent of the flowers, nor the joy of watching a bloom open, nor even the pure physical pleasure of taking scattered stems and turning them into something beautiful, her own kind of art. These things were all very pleasant to her, but the thing that truly drove her was the chance to be a part of so many occasions in people's lives , the chance to make people's day a little brighter.

She connected emotionally with each bouquet, imagining the look on a woman's face when her wife brought home the bright pink roses and sunny orange daisies, or a bride smiling at the perfect orchids descending from her hand. She beamed as she created a bouquet for a woman who'd just gone into remission. She cried softly as she assembled an arrangement for a baby's funeral.

And so to her, days were wrapped up in stories and scents, and she mostly kept to the back of the house. Not that Mina cared too deeply about what paired well with the shape of peony, truth be known. She liked Haruka more than she liked the work itself, and they sat up front over the lunch hour snacking on a pizza when the bell rang, and a little old man entered.

He shuffled quietly up to the counter, smiling softly, and a little sadly, at the girls. "I'm looking for a bouquet for my wife. She's in the hospital just now, I know she'd think this was silly but, she just seems so sad to be sick." He counted ten ones out onto the tile counter. "I know I can't get much, but Essie loves the color pink, if you have anything small I can get."

Mina considered for a moment. "I have a little pink rose and some baby's breath in a glass—"

But Haruka scooped up the bills from the white countertop and nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I actually had a whole bunch of stuff fall into my lap today, they couldn't move it with any of the bigger guys, hell of a deal, so let me see what I can rustle up, I'll never get through it all anyway, I'd hate to see it go to waste."

Mina rolled her eyes. "Ruka…"

But Haruka was already in the back, her head poked into the refrigerator full of flowers. She gathered up big, pink peonies, offset with the tiny perfect yellow Peruvian lilies. Little green tendrils of ivy rounded out the bottom as she crisscrossed the stems with an ivory ribbon. She set it with a pin, and placed it in a cheery vase.

Grinning, she brought it back out to the shop, the old man's face lighting up as Haruka presented it to him. "Something like this what you're looking for?"

He looked at it longingly. "Oh, it's beautiful. I can't accept this, young—" he looked at the corner of her apron. "Haruka."

Mina laughed throatily, but Haruka shushed her. "Of course you can, you'd be doing me a favor, they'd just go bad anyhow. Rather you give them to your wife. Really."

He nodded gratefully. "She will love them." He gently accepted them from Haruka's hands. "I can't thank you two enough, I don't want charity, but for Essie—"

Haruka waved her hand. "It's not charity, swear. Tell your friends where you got them."

She crossed her arms over her chest, and watched, satisfied, as he left the shop, the grin never leaving her face. Peonies were at their peak right now, and they would be so fragrant framed by the cheerful and long lasting lilies. A warmth filled her as she surveyed the shop, quickly interrupted by Mina's protests.

"Listen, lesbian feelings bag, I get your whole shtick, but you actually gotta pay the mortgage on this place, you know." Mina looked over at Haruka, annoyed, and took another slice of pizza.

Haruka leaned against the counter, balanced on her elbow. "One bouquet is not gonna break us."

Mina swallowed the pepperoni forcefully. "Haruka, that's like a 120 dollar bouquet. You know how I know? Because we did one just like for a wedding last week! No wait, that one used aster instead of Peruvian lilies. So like 140 dollars, HARUKA."

"Now what's made you so cold-hearted? You and Rei fighting again?" Haruka wound some cheese around her finger and licked it off.

"I'm not cold-hearted, I just have business acumen and leadership, oh young Haruka." She snorted.

Oh, he just didn't know, Mina, he was trying to be on the safe side, I doubt he's seen a ton of butch girls in his lifetime."

"Yes, lesbians were all invented in the 90s, during the dot com boom."

"I see you've avoided the question about Rei."

A look of horror crossed Mina's face. "Oh shit." She ran toward the back, Haruka in hot pursuit. Haruka opened her mouth to ask, but Mina turned around and grabbed her shoulders. "I signed you up for a wedding Saturday and forgot to tell you."

Haruka's eyes grew wider than her prized sunflowers. "What?"

Mina started glancing around the back for ideas. "It's a good gig—high-end clientele, I had do scramble to get it for us. But uh…you may be working some late nights this week."

Haruka sighed heavily, and wrote a note to ask the Italian place to send lasagna.

"We've been a part of the community since 1962, in the same location, so you know we're not just a fly by night operation." Haruka beamed with pride as she described her business to a bride who nodded along kindly. "I have flowers delivered to me every day except Sunday, so you know your bouquets are gonna be fresh, and I can work with any budget! Every bride deserves to have that little bit of magic, that sparkle, for her day."

Mina sighed heavily behind the banquet table, rolling her eyes. It was a wonder, to her, that she ever let Haruka out of the shop in the first place. She was a terribly creative and thoughtful florist, but it would have been vastly preferable, in her mind, to leave Haruka to her blooms and her florist's wire and her overwhelming sentimentality, and leave the business to Mina.

To Haruka, flowers were feelings. To Mina, they were dollar signs.

Time to rescue Haruka from herself again. She stood up and walked over to where Haruka chatted about community involvement, her apron traded out for a vest but all other elements of her outfit kept the same, practically a uniform at this point. She pushed Haruka to the side, and smiled conspiratorially at the blushing bride.

"Listen, she's not wrong about all that, but that's not why you want us. Artists, let me tell you." She indicated around the hall, pointing to other booths. "Look around all you want, I'll tell you right now what you're going to see. Roses with crystals in the center. Hand tied peony bouquet. Orchid fall. A single calla lily set in a tall vase as a minimalist display. These people do what others have already done. But we," She indicated to her and Haruka, "Look at this stuff. A heather wrap for your bouquet? Poppies? Ivy falls, adding a natural and fresh, and even more economical look, to your bouquet? Who even does this? We do. This one's in it for the love of the game, trust me." She bent in closer. "You want people to say not, 'those flowers are nice,' but, 'That bride has an incredible eye.'" She slipped her a business card. "We fill up fast, small operation, get your downpayment in."

The bride walked off, considering the card, and Mina strolled back over to Haruka, hands behind her back. "We'll have an email from her by the end of the day."

Haruka fiddled with a spray of aster. "Why can't just lay my business cards on the table, go, 'Hi, I am a nice florist and I will work hard. My prices are reasonable.' and be done with it?"

"That's not how it works, muffin. Anywhere. Ever. You still think it's 1960-whatever and Butch is running the place."

Their eyes followed to a woman looking at their displays, touching the edge of a rose bouquet. For a moment the world became less real to Haruka, the hall and everything in it a blank piece of parchment, this woman drawn onto it in smooth black ink lines, brushed on as if she were a piece of calligraphy. Every time she moved, the light hit her in a different way, unveiling different layers, different levels.

"You're not a rose. You're a hydrangea." Haruka had not even realized that she had walked to her side.

"Well, this is certainly a bit of patter no other florist has tried, I confess." Her eyebrow arched, not unkindly, but it was enough to bring a strong blush to Haruka's cheek.

"No, ah, I mean—" She plucked the classic rose out of the bouquet. "Your dress is white, I'd guess, and for the wedding, you're leaving your hair that shade of teal?" Haruka turned the rose over in her hands as Michiru nodded. Encouraged by the nod, Haruka held the rose close to the woman's face. "The red, with your hair, gives an almost Christmas-like effect, but off just a little. It's not what you want, you don't want those kinds of associations on your day, right?" She handed the rose to her and picked up a tied bouquet of hydrangeas. "This purple, that would set off both you and the flowers, especially against a white dress, without being too clever, you know?" She looked down at the hydrangeas. "You can frame them with something if you like, maybe limonium, aster? I wouldn't though." She looked back up at the woman. "Hydrangeas are a great flower because they're singular, complex, elegant. They don't need any other flowers to be beautiful."

A closed-mouth smile crept across the woman's face as she extended her hand. "Michiru Kaioh. I was hoping to find some assistance with floral arrangements. This seems to be the place."

Mina appeared out of nowhere and flicked a card into her hands. "Consulation is free, but we have a 500 on out of season, 1,000 minimum on in season, 25% deposit at contract signing with standard payment schedule thereafter. We book up fast."

She never looked away from Haruka's eyes. "I'm sure you do."

She slipped the card into her purse and turned back to the rest of busy expo, disappearing into the crowd like sugar into coffee.

"What was that all about?" Mina glanced at Haruka skeptically.

"What do you mean?" Haruka tucked the rose back into its bouquet and tidied the surrounding blooms.

She affected a deep and sultry voice. "Oh no, you're a hydrangea. You're complex and multi-layered, here, let me hold a flower up to your face to show my deep commitment to florals." She crossed her arms and dropped her imitation. "That's you. That's what you sound like."

"Oh stop. I was just trying to be all charming, like you told me." She ignored Mina as she stuck the hydrangea bouquet back into the display holder.

"I said be charming, not creepily seduce engaged women. Look, I know you haven't been on a date since the Eisenhower administration—"

"I wasn't seducing her! You know what?" She crossed her arms grumpily and marched behind the table, taking a ziploc bag out from under the booth table. "I am gonna sit here, and eat my snack, and you can do all the stupid talking, Mina."

"I think that would be best."

Haruka turned a binder of photographs toward Michiru, flanked by her mother and sister. "I can work with a range of budgets, if you'll just give me an idea of what you have to spend."

Her mother waved her hand, her nose raised in disgust. "I don't want to talk about anything so gauche as money."

Haruka looked off to the side, eyes flicking about the room, unsure of what to say. "Uh, I uh, don't know what that means."

Michiru smiled kindly. "The budget is whatever we require it to be to get our needs met. Just send us the bill."

Haruka nodded, a little in disbelief, and got up to grab another binder from the shelf above her workbench. She rarely got a chance to trot this one out—it even still had photos from when she was still working with Butch, but truly high-dollar stuff came in so rarely that she didn't have much of a chance to grow the portfolio. She didn't bring it out much to brides she worked with. It seemed unfair and unkind, to her, to have the brides or grooms she worked with fall in love with something they could never afford. So she kept it on its shelf. Select reserve, she thought.

Looking at these women's jewelry, she realized she should have brought it out when they first sat down. This was why Mina was better.

She set the binder down in front of them. "These are some of the more fancy stuff I do." She sat down across from them, picking nervously at the edge of her shirt. Rich people made her nervous, which was somewhat of an issue in her line of work, admittedly. But they looked at her like they were appraising her. They asked where she studied, and 'P.S. 119 and the shop you're sitting in' was never the answer they wanted. Mina said to lie, Haruka knew her work and it was none of their business that she didn't have an overpriced floral design degree, it's not like she's a dentist. She never did. She was a goodflorist, but a bad liar.

She regained her concentration. "I know we talked about hydrangeas, and I think for the accents Madagascar Jasmine, if you want any accents, I could put them in like little stars. " She shoved her falling sleeves back up to her elbows. "For the centerpieces, we could do all white, Madagascar jasmine, white roses, and I've got these little calla lilies that have purple inside if I order them—"

"I think magnolias, perhaps, in the stead of white roses." Her mother looked at Haruka, not asking her so much as insisting. "White roses are rather common."

"I think you mean gardenias. Magnolias aren't really a stem flower, they look alike, it's an easy mistake." Haruka looked down at the table, avoiding the Kaioh matriarch's gaze of disapproval at the correction. She cleared her throat and looked over at Michiru. "I can do gardenias, of course, it's just, well, gardenias aren't really a filler flower, and they're really fragrant, a lot of people don't like to have them by food and stuff, the Madagascar jasmine's a little more subtle but still—"

"Gardenias will be fine, I think." She turned to Michiru. "I think we ought to have them for your bouquet as well, don't you? They are such a lovely and elegant bloom. Classic."

Michiru shrugged. "I suppose that would be fine." She looked up at Haruka, eyes betraying a moment of fear. "If you don't mind working with them."

Haruka shook her head. "I'll need to ask for some more down before I order, because I can't unload them that easy if you cancel, but no, I don't care." She reassured Michiru with a smile, and crossed 'hydrangeas' from her notepad.

The appointment finished peacefully, Haruka with a tablet full of notes and small sketches. It would be fun, she thought, not to be bound by a budget, and her enthusiasm was only slightly dampened by the Kaiohs' lack of deference to her floral wisdom. She walked them to the door, and Michiru waved her family on ahead for a moment.

She touched Haruka gently on the forearm. "My mother is mostly interested in which flowers our circles know to be expensive, that she may assert her rank without being accused of being gaudy. It is a delicate balance, as you might imagine." She smiled up at Haruka, tilting her head delicately upward like a sunflower seeking the light. "I apologize."

Haruka grinned crookedly, but found her eyes could not meet Michiru's for long. "It's nothing. Part of the job."

"I appreciate it, all the same." She adjusted her hat, and before Haruka could stop herself, she pulled a bright white daisy from its container by the door and slipped it beneath her hatband.

She scratched behind her ear. "Just uh, needed a little cheer."

Michiru touched the petal delicately. "Well, you certainly gave it that." She nodded, and turned to follow her family.

Haruka watched her leave, and shut the door to the shop behind her. She walked a few steps inside and fell to her knees, closed her eyes and paused for a moment, and then dramatically slumped sideways onto the floor. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ranunculus bending down toward her.

"Why am I so stupid? Why do I do this to myself?"

"Beats the hell out of me," the ranunculus answered, "you have shitty taste in women and you like to be miserable?"

Haruka was confused for a moment, and then sat up to see Mina standing behind the flower bins. "Thanks, Mina." She laid back down on the floor.

"You know, I could set you up on a date with, wildly, an actual available girl." She stuck some freesia into the pick-a-mix bin. "Girls love bitches who bring flowers."

"You mean butches."

"I said what I said."

"No bride needs to be that involved with her flowers, Haruka." Mina sipped at a lemonade and sketched a number down on the notepad, looking back up occasionally at the computer. "I'm telling you, she's got an ulterior motive here."

"What's that gonna be, hanging out with a florist? Maybe she's hoping I'll slip her a peony." Haruka swept the stray petals off the floor, dumping the natural confetti into the garbage.

"You do. You make goo-goo eyes at her and teach her about flowers and give her flowers 'for luck' or whatever the fuck ever.."

"Oh, that was a pink carnation, I think it cost the store a quarter. Lighten up." She hung the broom back to its place on the wall.

Mina laid down her pencil. "You're an expert at missing the point."

"She's just excited about her wedding, Mina, you're so suspicious. Are you gonna order us lunch, or what?"

"No she's not, she's excited to see you. She's a bored rich girl looking for some fling from the wrong side of the tracks so she can have a little drama in her life. And you're a worm on her hook." She flipped through a set of takeout menus.

"Oh, I am not."

"I can see your guts as her barb of love cuts through your tender wriggling worminess."

Haruka went behind the counter and playfully smacked her on the back of the head. "Also, I'm not from the wrong side of the tracks, I'm a successful small business owner! And ew, Mina, you're disgusting."

Mina pulled out a menu. "Did you go to some fancy ivy-covered school? No? You're from the wrong side of the tracks. Their tracks are like, way over there. Here, we're getting Indian." She held the menu out at Haruka.

Haruka pushed it back to her. "Just get me the butter chicken. Mina, this isn't what you think it is."

Mina studied the menu for herself. "Trust me, this can only end in tears, and her giving you some heartfelt confession and violins will swell and then she'll claim you seduced her and the Kaiohs will ruin you and you'll be living on my couch eating Ramen noodles."

"Whatever, Mina."

"Just be careful, okay? I'm getting the tikka, I think."

The lights burned and buzzed overhead in the quiet of the back room, a lag in between the songs that played through her stereo. How late was it, even? She wasn't sure anymore. She always forgot the work of these huge weddings, ones she really shouldn't take on by herself—Mina had no eye for things, herself, and needed clear instruction, and rarely agreed to work on into the night for hours.

Not that Haruka could blame her. This shop was Haruka's baby, it always had been, and its success was a source of pride to her, a lesson to everyone who had ever said she'd never make it. She was good at her work, and she worked hard at it. She'd even taken advantage of the small business classes offered at the community center so she could learn bookkeeping.

Her success was only a small salve as she hand-wired another Picasso lily into place.

She looked up at the clock. Eleven. Maybe she should go up to bed. She had two days before the wedding. Ah, but she had a funeral Friday. She needed to hire another assistant, preferably one a little less good at talking and a little better at actually working. That Mako girl from down the block made really lovely bouquets out of the pick-a-mix crate, she could probably be taught easily.

But, in any case, what Haruka might do in the future was unimportant now, as she faced the sweetly scented doom of her present. She stepped back from the finished centerpiece, examining it from all angles. Good. She picked it up and took it to the refrigerator, setting it next to the other perfectly-sculpted centerpieces that most everyone in the room would ignore once they made sure they were there. Haruka wasn't even sure why she did weddings and parties, there was so much more emotional satisfaction in individual bouquets that people cooed over for days.

Then she remembered how much she was getting paid.

Her eyes heavy, she dragged herself out to the workroom and, almost without thinking, laid down on the foam mat next to the table. She'd just close her eyes for a minute. Then she'd get back to it.

There was a touch on her back in the darkness, and she seized up as if she had been struck by lightning, scrambling to sit up. She looked toward her would-be attacker, and saw Michiru, knelt next to her, still as beautiful as a painting, not hardly a person.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." Haruka remembered something once about the lilies of the valley ringing when the fairies sang. She swore she heard a chime come from the flower fridge. "You were asleep."

"I was just…laying down for a minute. I, uh…what are you doing here?" She looked up at the clock. Midnight.

" I saw the light on in the back. I imagined it must be my fault." She smiled, a line of white framed by roses. "I stepped over to the diner and bought you a cheeseburger, I hope you aren't too choosy—there's little open this time of night. " She held out a brown paper bag. "There are fries as well."

Haruka took the bag gratefully and sat cross legged on the floor, bag of fries tucked in her legs and munching her cheeseburger. How many hours had it been since she'd eaten? Mina had made her have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before she'd left at 6, and then Haruka had kept working…hm. It had to have been awhile, because this cheeseburger tasted like the best thing she'd ever eaten.

"You should consider locking your door when you're here alone at night, you know."

Haruka swallowed her mouthful. "Did I not lock the door?"

"I strolled right in with nary a care." She looked up at the workbench still covered with leaves and stems. "I hope I haven't cause you too much in the way of trouble."

Haruka wiped her hands on the napkin tucked into the bag. "Comes with the territory."

Michiru sat right next to Haruka on the mat. A floral perfume. Sweet pea. Rose. Violet. Classic. Never old, never new. "I hope you occasionally find your way home."

Haruka laughed. "I live upstairs."

"Ara, do you ever leave this place?" She leaned against the workbench, more casual than Haruka had ever seen her.

"Not to hear Mina tell it." She stuffed the wrapper from the cheeseburger back into the back and grinned over at Michiru. "We don't usually get a lot of excitement around her, true enough."

Michiru giggled and looked up at Haruka through long lashes."and so you find me exciting?"

"No, no, not even," Haruka shook her head, "In fact, I was just thinking about how boring you are. I fell asleep just thinking about you."

"Were you thinking about me?"

Haruka swallowed and looked away. "Michiru…"

"Stop. I have spent my entire life doing what was expected of me, so much so that I no longer know where my personality begins and what my family decided it would be ends." She set her hand on Haruka's shoulder. "I admire your passion. You feel things. I'm not fulfilled with Elsa, Haruka. She was decided for me the same way these gardenias were. She is expensive, and beautiful. She makes a lovely presentation. But I didn't know there was something else, something greater, beyond that. A feeling. You are Persephone, and I have come into bloom."

She kissed Haruka, and for a moment that burst of a new bloom lingered between them, before Haruka's mind caught up with her heart, and she pulled away from Michiru, jumping to her feet.

Haruka paced around the room for a moment. "No. No. No. I can't be doing this." She tugged at her hair. "God, this is not gonna help my yelp reviews."

Michiru rose to her feet, slowly and gracefully. "Haruka, I haven't been satisfied with–"

"Okay, but did you maybe think that it's not about you!? You can break up your engagement to slum it with me and then go back, but you are a KAIOH. Your family can ruin me." Every cautionary tale Mina had told her came rushing back. "and this," she gestured around the shop, "this is all I have. This and," She clutched her hands to her chest, "And me. That's it. This is my life. And I like my life. I really, really like you, Michiru, and I wish I had met you a long time ago, but I didn't." She bit her bottom lip. "I don't want to be the reason your marriage broke up."

Michiru pursed her lips. "Well then. I suppose I should be on my way. I'm certain Elsa and my mother will be very pleased with what you've done." Haruka listened to the sound of her heels clicking on the tile, the bell of the door as she left.

She bent over the workbench, head in her hands, and sighed heavily.

It was time to go to bed.

The first thing Mina noticed was the untouched sandwich sitting on the workbench, the cheese congealed now, the egg growing more rubbery by the second. It had become a familiar sight these past few days, much to Mina's chagrin.

She set her coffee down next to a packed box of centerpieces. "So are you gonna tell me what's wrong or do I have to resort to torture?"

Haruka did not look up from the bridal bouquet, wiring in a finishing touch. "Nothing. I'm busy."

"You know I've studied the wild lesbian long enough to know that she doesn't eat as a response to stress, right? Don't bullshit me, Haruka, I brought in cake yesterday and you didn't touch it." She pulled on her apron and tied it about her waist.

Haruka sighed. "Mina, leave me alone."

But Mina was relentless, and hauled herself up onto the workbench, sitting crosslegged and staring at Haruka, hand on her chin, leaning on her knee. "Also, you're elbow deep in flowers and you haven't had to deal with a person for days and you're still unhappy. I'm lazy, not dumb, Ruka."

Haruka walked away from the workbench after finishing the tie on the bouquet. She walked over to the hook on the wall and tossed a set of keys to Mina. "I need you to deliver these for me today."

"Are you kidding, this is a wedding, you love delivering the flowers for weddings, you get all goopy and starry-eyed at people's romance and declarations of eternal love and—oh, Haruka." A look of realization crossed her face, and then concern. "She did exactly what I said she was gonna do."

"Yep." Haruka set the bouquet into a box. "You're right, I'm wrong, go ahead, tell me how stupid I am."

"Ruka." Mina inched closer to the edge of the table and laid a hand on her shoulder. "You're not stupid. You just…you let yourself get hooked sometimes."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Mina jumped off the table and tossed the keys in the air, catching them as they came down. "You'll be okay, buddy."

"I know." She turned pleadingly to Mina. "But will you please take these flowers?"

"Course." She went to walk to the van parked in the alleyway, but Haruka stopped her.

"Mina!" She turned around to look at Haruka. "She's still our customer. If you say anything, I swear to God, Mina, we need the work."

"God, you never let me do anything fun, what is the point even of this job if I can't yell at rich people?"

"Mina."

"Yeah, yeah I hear you. But you know what you're going to for me?" She pointed aggressively between them. "You're going to go on a date. With a nice, normal, girl. Or as normal as will willingly date you."

Haruka chuckled. "Fair enough."

The honeysuckle gave way to evergreens, and the last pine smell faded out of the shop as the evergreens turned again to honeysuckle. And Haruka Tenno rolled out of bed to a shrieking alarm, pulled on her oxford shirt, rolled her sleeves to her elbow, and headed downstairs, where her coffee and sandwich waited every morning.

Haruka was just finishing one of the bouquets for the Ladies' Lunch Jamboree when she heard the bell at the front of the shop ring. She put the last yellow rose in the vase, brightening the white carnation next to it, and wiped her hands, heading toward the front.

There she was, still ink on the page, and Haruka felt a mix of joy and sorrow, like a puddle of paint circling into a drain, one feeling whirling around the other. Her pink dress delicately nipped in at the waist and flared out at the bottom, and Haruka cheerfully thought, for a moment, that she looked almost like an upside-down tulip in full bloom. She held a small bouquet, the purple of the hydrangea striking next to the white of the Madagascar jasmine, just as Haruka had thought, but the bouquet was off-center and the jasmine slumping on weak stems—she must not have known they always had to be wired. She caught haruka smiling at the bouquet as one smiles at a child's play-doh elephant, and looked down at it.

"I never was much of a sculptural artist, I confess." She held the bouquet out to Haruka. "I have been so loathe to return here, the thought was unimaginable to me at first, but, I have changed quite a bit in this past year. I came to apologize. Please take this bouquet before I die of embarrassment."

Haruka accepted it from her, unable to stop herself from rearranging the blooms into something more solid. "it's fine."

"No, it isn't. Please let me finish. It was unfair to you, what I did. It's so difficult for me to ask your forgiveness, but it is the right thing to do. I now realize the inherent ridiculousness of bringing flowers to a florist, I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking." She looked smaller somehow, less like a goddess and more like a girl. "I want you to know I got a divorce from Elsa. Not even three months later. You were not the reason, of course, but you did show me how unhappy I truly was. I moved out, and I have an apartment of my own, and I've been dating around."

Haruka nodded. "I'm glad you're happier now." She smiled to herself and turned to move behind the counter.

The voice rang behind her. "You wouldn't happen to be seeing anyone?"

Haruka turned around. "I, uh, no, but…"

Michiru walked toward the opposite side of the counter. 'I didn't want you to think I left Elsa for you. I left Elsa for me. But, I have been on so many outings with so many girls, and yet you always spring to mind. It may be that I just met you at an inconvenient time."

Haruka smiled crookedly. 'Everything in my life seems to happen at an inconvenient time."

Michiru walked up to the counter. "I would like to meet you again." She held out her hand. "Michiru Kaioh. I am in need of some assistance with floral design." She looked over at her sad bouquet. "Obviously. This seems to be the place."

Haruka leaned forward on the counter and shook her hand casually. "Haruka Tenno. For future reference, I'd rather have chocolates to flowers, even with your design skill."

Outside, the bees happily hummed from flower to flower, rejoicing in each new bloom of spring.


End file.
